Working the Telecoms
by CeliaEquus
Summary: Based on a Kink Meme prompt. Steve, while trying to work out Tony's phone system, accidentally ends up listening on a rather... salacious conversation, taking place between Clint and Agent Coulson. And he keeps listening. Disclaimer: I don't own the Avengers, or any other Marvel thingummies, nor am I making money from this.


"Working the Telecoms"

Later, Steve would blame Tony for not teaching him how to work these stupid telecoms. When he was in the right frame of mind. Right now, he was jerking himself off in the shower to memories of the conversation he had just overheard, and wondering how he could ever look either Clint or Phil in the eye again.

_Earlier_

The problem with Tony Stark was that any instruction manuals for his personal tech were electronic. Sure, Steve knew the basics of computers now; but it couldn't be that hard to work this out, right? Tony was always saying that his technology could be understood simply by using common sense. Well, it was easy to see that whatever logic he used was something unfathomable to ordinary humans.

When something finally lit up, he pressed the button, and was relieved to hear voices on the other end. He was about speak when he realised what the voices were saying.

"…down to black boxers and a striped tie. The blue and gold one you like," Phil Coulson was purring – purring! – to someone.

"What're you gonna do with the tie, Phil?" Clint said. Steve's jaw hit the ground and his eyes widened as it became apparent what was happening.

"I won't even have to say it. I can tell you to put your hands on the headboard with just a look. You know which look I mean; you'll snap to it, won't you, Clint? You're a good boy for me, aren't you, Clint?"

Clint hissed. "Yeah, Phil. My hands are on the headboard. Are you gonna tie me up?"

"Oh yes," Phil said. "Tie you up good. Even you can't undo a tie like this without help. And I'm not gonna let you go until I've made you come at least five times." Clint whimpered. "You know I can do it. You'll tighten up so many times you'll feel empty without something or someone inside you, for days, Clint. Days. You'll be shooting dry, won't you?"

"Y-yes, Phil."

"But you won't complain at all, because you love it. You love coming apart under my hands, with my fingers in you… or my tongue… and the last time you come will be with me, won't it?"

"Oh god."

Steve was thinking the exact same thing as he sat there, stiff all over, and especially in one area.

"I'll be deep inside you, just how you like. Filling you so much that your orgasm will triple in intensity because you're just that. Turned. On. Yeah, you always lose your mind when you're stuffed full of my release. Makes you feel like I own you. Because I do own you, don't I, Clint?"

"Yeah, Phil," Clint said breathily. "I'm all yours. Fill me up, Phil. `Til nothing else'll fit inside, not even you."

"But first I'll undress you slowly, then throw you onto the bed. You'll let me bind you up with my tie. Only your legs loose, Clint. And after the first climax you won't even be able to move those anymore."

"How'll you make me come, Phil?"

"Well," he sounded smug, "I know how sensitive your nipples are."

"Oh _God_…"

"I'll suck one first, play with the other. I'll be sitting on your thighs so you can't bring our hips together – that's for later." Clint made some small noise; Steve wished he could make one, too. "Then I'll swap to the other nipple, increasing the pressure until you're just starting to shake. That's when I'll stop." Clint whined. "What do you say, Clint?"

"Th-thank you, sir."

"That's right," Phil crooned. "Anything else?"

"Please m-make me come, sir. Let me show you how much I love this, sir."

Steve swallowed quietly, and shifted in his seat.

"Of course, Clint. Because you're mine, aren't you?"

"Yes, sir. Please, sir…"

"What next, Clint? You're so good at this game. I know you are."

Clint's gulp was audible down the line. "You'll climb off me, and pull me up into a kiss. Tongue. So much tongue…"

"_Clint_?"

Steve nearly dropped the phone at the growled name.

"And I'll spread my legs for you, sir. As wide as I can."

"How wide, Clint?"

"Right-angles to my hips."

Phil moaned softly. "Thank God for the circus."

Clint chuckled. "You love seeing how bendy I am. You'll get right down in front of me, stretch me out before I'm ready. I love the burn, and you love that I love the burn."

"Damn right." There was that growl again. Steve scrunched his legs together; it didn't relieve the pressure at all.

"You'll open the bottle of lube, and thrust the nozzle right inside me."

"That's right, Clint…"

"But you'll only dribble a little bit in. You'll keep pushing until the rest of the lid goes in, stretching me further." Steve heard the rustle of fabric, and wondered whose clothing was being adjusted. Or… being removed? "Will you fuck me with the body of the bottle, sir?"

"Is it the big bottle of lube?"

"Yes, sir."

Phil hissed. "God, yes. Until you're begging for me to replace it. That's when I'll yank it out. I've already been jacking off; I won't need any more lubrication. I'll just push right on in."

Clint gasped loudly, and Steve heard furniture creaking. "Yes, sir. Yes. All the way in. Don't take me easy. Push in, over, over, over—"

It was all starting to blend into one long line of filthy talk in Steve's ears, becoming white noise as he tried to resist palming himself through his trousers. It was when Phil told Clint to come that the archer cried out. Steve pulled his hand away, ashamed, even more so when he heard a deep groan and a panted name; Phil had just climaxed as well.

He was so distracted that he didn't hear the door opening until too late.

"Steve, what are you doing on the phone?" Natasha asked, her voice ringing clear across the room. Simultaneously, Clint and Phil swore, and Steve dropped the receiver.

"I n-need a shower," he said. As he hurried past her, he muttered, "A cold one."

Natasha wandered over to the phone, and picked it up, only to hear a slew of apologies.

"What were you two doing?" she asked, the tone of her voice implying that she knew exactly what had been going on.

"I can't face him again," Clint said. His voice was muffled, probably by his hand.

"What if he tells the director?" Phil asked. "I don't want to attend that lecture on inappropriate use of SHIELD resources."

"For the third time," Natasha reminded him.

"Thank you, Agent Romanov."

"If it's any consolation," she said, glancing back at the doorway and smirking, "when Steve left the room he was on his way to the bathroom, sporting… I believe you call it a 'boner'? Maybe next time you should encourage him to join in? Or maybe you shouldn't wait anymore?"

"He wasn't supposed to know that we knew he was there," Clint grumbled. "The first time he actually stumbles across one of our calls, and you interrupt it. We were going to invite him to our place tonight."

"I don't think you will have any protest from him."

"We'd better not," Phil said. "If I get caught again—"

"We'll send an LMD in your place," Natasha said. "Now go away before you get caught."

And they all hung up. Natasha glanced around.

"JARVIS?" she asked.

"Yes, Agent Romanov?"

"Do you have the entire recording of that phone call between Agents Barton and Coulson, including the part the good captain overheard?"

"I do."

"Could you please send it to Steve's phone? I think he'll need a little reminder, and a lot of encouragement."

"Of course."

She smiled as she ran a finger along the receiver. She would have to ask JARVIS for a copy as well, for her personal archives.

* * *

**Another prompt filled, because of reasons. I started this, and had trouble stopping so that I could go to sleep. That's what keeps happening to me; I begin a story or a chapter, and keep going until it's past my bed-time, which is problematic if I have college the next day.**

**Anyway. Hope you liked this. Please review!**


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